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What's the worst hospital meal you ever ate?
It's no secret that hospital food is -- well, let's just say it's less than appetizing. In fact, the quality of hospital food is so bad that celebrity chef James Martin even offered to revamp the menu at the hospital in his hometown of Scarborough. (Don't you wish that would happen at a hospital near you?)
We want to hear from you. What's the worst hospital meal you've ever been served? Do you have any photos? Send us your worst hospital food tales ever and you just might see your story in print in our March 2012 issue!
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25 comments
I was pregnant and went into the hospital at 530am Christmas Eve morning,I had a natural delivery at 12:05 am Christmas morning .After a night of looking after this new life that just happened to be the only one crying down in the nursery,I was starving and really looking forward to Christmas dinner with my family.I guess it wasn't in the cards because I was told I was staying for one more day.My Husband was with me the entire time and he was exhausted to.They brought me my "Turkey Dinner" alright,YUK!! I had the classic TV dinner of Pressed Turkey ,runny flaked potatoes and ,get this....my choice of peas or corn on the side.I don't know what the stuffing was made of and the "cranberries must have been some kind of no name Jam,I was so hungry that I remember eating everything on my plate. No sooner was the empty plate taken away that my Mom came strolling in with the dinner she had made for Christmas and not for me but my Husband because she thought I wouldn't be hungry after all that hard work.Thanks Mom. "wink"
St. Mikes served me a single serving pizza still half frozen, the cheese didn't even get warm let alone melt or brown a little.
RUH - The food came from out of province and warmed up before distrubtion. For breakfast, very soggy toast and only peanut butter for a protein (ironically the menu list that you fill in ahead of time indicates you require a protein and the only one given is peanut butter - no other meat or eggs option on the menu). Any meal that needed to be warm was dried out and/or overcooked. Besides food was at the very miniumum at least one day old, maybe two.
I remember being in hospital after having one of my three children. Everyone in the room was starving and when they brought lunch, there was a silver cover over the plate. We all went oooooooooh, but when we took off the silver cover it was one soggy, wrinkled up hot dog! It did give us all a good laugh!
I work in a small community hospital that is within a group of hospitals.
It was the worse decision to do this type of amalgamation the government ever thought of. There are 4 in the group and we are the smallest. We were built by and always supported by the community. We had cooks on staff that used to do all the inhouse meal preparation and now most of the meals are brought in from an outside source with no regards to what depqartment they are for or what special diets are needed. We occasionally get people that are 'vegans' and do they ever loose out big time. They don't get a variety or even a choice from a menu. They mostly get this black bean (excuse me) crap for more than 1 meal in a row. It looks discusting and from what I am told tastes just as bad. Absolutely no imagination! We have had our patients receive this meal 2-3 times in a row. How would you like black bean fiesta for lunch and dinner and lunch and dinner and lunch and dinner. I know that if we still had our own cooks there would at least be a variety being served. It almost converts these vegans to eating regular food! Government cutbacks, eh!
as a child when i was in the hospital i would hide the food in the closet as it didnot taste like the food that my mother made as an adult i have not had any good experieinces with any of the food fare
I have been in the hospital a lot,and the number of bad meals are incalculable! One that sticks out was a dinner. We took the lid off the plate, my roommate and I both looked at each other and said "What is it?" I won't tell you what it looked like but it tasted even worse! To this day, I have no idea what it was. Another was a breakfast. There was a cup of oatmeal and a large covered plate. Under the cover was 1/2 slice of toast! But the BEST meals were at the hospital in Peterborough. Not only fairly good food, but a lot of it. Yogurt with every breakfast, dessert with every dinner. Only time I can remember looking forward to meals in the hospital.
a few years ago I cooked in a hospital kitchen. we made great food from scratch, but sortly after i went to work in our long term care facility the hospital kitchen started bringing in frozen food. To save money. I was in the hospital in the fall and had the pleasure of eating the food. The one day my meal was either chicken or fish. I could not tell which it was. it lokked like a white lump on my plate with no flavour. I wish we would go back to cooking real meals for people. The right diet will help anyone get better, but this frozen food is just going to waste. People are not eatting it.
Our local hospital doesn't cook their food in house. So when I was in the hospital they served turkey or chicken roll for supper. The meat looked like a coast they use when you go to a bar. It was like a piece of cardboard.
worst hospital food i had was recently, just after surgery i was on liquid diet only. got what was called Chicken soup. I swear they just heated up some water and handed it out. zero taste.
My husband was in the hospital with pneumonia and was on a soft diet. The worst thing he had was called "strained cream soup". It was impossible to tell what was in it. On the bright side, the greeny gray coloured liquid was hot and came with 2 crackers.
I was out of my room when the food choice menu came around. When I returned a tray was left for me by some kind food server. I opened up my "supper" and there were two of the biggest sausages I have ever seen smothered in a tomato sauce,sauerkraut and some mushy looking scalloped potatoes as well as tapioca pudding. Since I detest all these things and I didn't have much of an appetite as it was, let's just say I did not dive into this meal but sent my visiting brother for take-out!
After admission to St. Catharines General Hospital with heart failure, I was served cold coffee and fish that was a rubbery bouncer. I love fish, but this meal was the worst ever.
The worst hospital food I ever had was no food at all. I had surgery early in the morning. By suppertime, I was hungry but did not get a tray. I was told that they forgot to put my name in the system but that they would send for a tray. It never came. The husband of the patient in the next bed went out and brought me back a burger. The next morning, I did not get breakfast. When I complained, I got the same story, that my name had not been put into the system. Just then, my doctor came in and said that I could stay one more day or go home. It was up to me. Needless to say, I told him i would go home since I was not being fed at the hospital.
The evening after I gave birth to my second son, I was looking forward to a decent meal. Of all the meals they could pick for a breastfeeding mom, they chose corned beef and cabbage! Not an ideal choice for mom or baby considering the gas producing properties of cabbage. Now I normally don't mind corned beef and cabbage, but the meat was fatty and the cabbage limp and tasteless and I don't recall any other vegies on my plate. That was 22 years ago and I still remember it well and long after the pain of childbirth was forgotten!
My son had broken his leg and was not thrilled to be staying in the hospital at all. One evening, the meal tray was placed on his table and he recognized potatoes, but, couldn't identify what the rest of the food was. He looked at the nurse and said "What is it?" She looked at it, turned the plate around, and said "I have no idea!" We got him a burger!
I did have some good food served when at a Toronto hospital in the early 70's. I had been put on an "ulcer" diet and a dietician visited regularly.
Yet that was an exception! The worst food I remember was a breakfast meal. The cream of wheat was very watery and contained much too much salt. The toast was soggy and cold and the coffee was lukewarm water with a packet of instant beside. There was also an egg. The menu slip noted my "allergy" to egg and the low-salt requirement!!!
I do not eat food which is disgusting so many of my meals were returned - no one ever came to find out why!
And yes, of course hospital food should be revamped! Proper nutrition goes a long way to improve healing - both of the body and mind!
I was inthe critical care before being transfered to another hospital for an angiogram After coming back to my original bed there sat a cold
cabbage roll and white rice No one offered to heat it up or supply an alternate.
I finally asked the nurse on the floor if something in my name had been
left for an evening nourishment Believe it or not there was a sandwich
in my name. I cannot remember if I was offered a beverage.
I also had a knee replacement in the same hospital. I am diabetic and was served white rice at every lunch and dinner . A therapist finnally commented that I was not eating My comment was that the food was inedible. She was very kind and offered to make tea and toast for me
This was the best food I had during the whole experienc.e. With such good food available in Canada there is no excuse for hospital patients
being treated this way. I understand that all food is made off site so consequently Patients are served leftovers. To top it off they ve the audacity to send up a dietician to see how you are eating at home!
My mom was in and out of hospital on a regular basis when I was young. It was a family joke about how bad hospital food was. I made a get well card for her that had a picture of Charlie Brown carrying a bowl of food to Snoopy, who was lying on his dog house. Under the picture, I wrote "Come home and have some real food".
My mom kept a folder of certain pictures that I drew for her. When we were cleaning out her apartment after she passed away, I found the folder. Inside the folder is the get well card that I drew for her asking her to come home and have some real food.
Our hospital gives chopped meat sandwiches every day... and you cant tell WHAT type of meat it is. Tuna, chicken, pork? Not a clue.
Let's talk about this New Year's day feast at the VG, in Halifax.
On December 27, I had surgery for bladder cancer; they removed bladder, prostate and nodes, aand , well, let's not go there as it might cut your appetite as much as hospital food would... The operation was harder than planned, lots of blood lost, 7.5 hours on the table, 5 hours in re-animation, a close call if you see what I mean... (Still, they did a fine job, and I'm now mending very quickly) On December 28, I could not even drink a sip of water; I realized getting back on my feet would take a while... Simply put, since they also removed a length of intestine for the reconstructive part (oups, sorry, I guess I did have to bring it up...) it took over a day for my intestines to "wake-up" . So, throughout December 28,I'd let small ice cubes melt in my mouth. (The best feeling ever ! Best meals for sure !). I was obviously fed intra-veinously. On December 29, they gave me liquid to drink. On December 30, they moved up the scale quickly, with semi-solid food.... Can't really say what it was .. I can only describe the colors : earth tones, white and some yellow for main courses, pastel colours for dessert. I was just repeating the mantra: "in certain circumstances, chemicals can be your friend...". On December 31, you could feel we were on the verge of a special day; it was in the air ... and on my plate, in the shape of 2 chicken sandwiches . Well, not the chicken that runs around with its head cut off, no, the kind that is born and dies in a can... with very little stories to tell. The look of one such sandwich? A number of glistening darkish brown turdish pieces of solid, drowning in half a small jar of "fouet miraculeux", emprisoned , as it had been all its life in a can, between two thin pieces of dry white cardboard, that I quickly checked for any sign of greenness... I carefully chose the exact location where I would sink my teeth, over-analyzing what might be the best part of THIS animal. Then, came New Year's day and all the excitement that comes with it everywhere; even, apparently more and more, in China; certainly the best proof of "rapprochement" with the Asian Tiger, as they celebrate the first day of a calendar that never was theirs ... But today, whether ready or not , I'm moved up to full celebratory solids ! Hallelujah !!! Hallelujah !!! (Sorry, I'm now confused with the previous week's gastronomical crescendo.) And it was brought, ritually, as a pagan offering: a large plate covered with a complete plastic bell cover (to me, it might as well have been made of silver ..) I hallucinated ! I could hear Leonard Cohen singing : "Ring the bells that still can ring.... Forget your perfect offering .....There is a crack, a crack in everything... That's how the light gets in ... And I felt such a bond with Leonard, a shared epiphany, a moment of grace, as I could almost see light rays breaking through the lined hardened polymer dome. Maybe he had written the song on a hospital bed, following a near death experience...? That would go well with the Leonard myth, no ? I let minutes go by, collecting my emotions. For at least 10 minutes, I breathed deeply, giving thanks for what was about to happen. In my week emotional state, I did get all weepy... And finally, I reached out and lifted the bell. Along with the bell, the veils were lifted, revealing THE typical New Year's feast : Piles of sliced turkey breast soaking up copious amounts of brown gravy, a mound of pure-white mashed potatoes, forest green small pieces of green beans, and dominating the whole thing, a peak of bright red, jello-like shiny cranberry sauce. This last item gave credibility to the whole plate, because, as we all know, Jello IS our friend , So, I dug in : I test-bit each item : the mashed were made from reconstituted dry potato flakes, the green beans were so overcooked, they seemed to evaporate somewhere between the plate and my mouth and, as for the turkey, well, I slowly carved a small piece, brought it to my mouth and slowly, ever slowly, began to chew.My first impression was that the taste forgot to follow the piece on the fork ride to my mouth. I tasted nothing. And I kept chewing some more ... surely my chewing will eventually extract the yummy turkey juices... Nope ... Nada .. There was action on the texture front: expanding piece of drywall board that I wanted to spit out. I should have ... I should have known there was a risky similarity between chalky and choky. As I swallowed the unholly lump, I choked . It was stuck somewhere in my airways. Panicked, I rang for the nurse but, God bless them they're so busy, they can't always come running like in the movies. I was on my own ... What an ironic way to go, I thought with panic, still unable to breathe. I visualized my airways expanding, willing it to, promising every known gods, so that whichever was on duty this day, that if he interceded and allowed the object to drop, I would live as a better moral person. and ..... it worked. The thing accepted to follow the law of gravity and slowly, slowly began to move down my pipes. I didn't want to cough too much , as it made my incision hurt and I was afraid to pop the sutures. Eventually I settled in the soft, quiet place that follows the huge adrenaline rush caused by our survival instinct, the fight or flight response. I could not fly anywhere, but I sure fought for my life. Drenched in sweat, but at peace with the world, I had the insight that it had been a stroke of genius to try to address all the Gods, not just the one who's generally on duty in Canada. After all, this was New Year's day here and our main God was probably on Holiday .... Finally the nurse arrived, looking concerned. "Are you OK. ??" she said. "I'm fine", I said. Then, "Are you done with your meal ?"
"Yes, I am." I responded. You see, I had put the dome back on the whole mess.... As she picked up the tray, she said : "You're mending amazingly well. I mean, your face is red, which means the blood is flowing smoothly. I nodded , with a smile, contented. She possibly also noticed on my cheeks the tracks from the tears that flowed as I was choking. She patted me on the arm and softly said with kindness : "No, I mean it, I'm sure you have a strong constitution and you'll get over this. Happy New Year, dear !" Well, that was it ... I started sobbing, as we always do when we're super weak and nice stranger give us heartfelt compassion. Between the sobs, I managed to blurt : " I know, I know, I'm actually quite happy and very optimistic ..!" and, as I settled down and she turned to leave :" Happy New Year's Nurse Flo " (That was the nickname I had given this incredibly competent and hilarious nurse who always wore a traditional-style nurse headdress, in reference to Florence Nightingale.
It was sweet to watch her leave the room, carrying the tray of barely touched turkey dinner, a spring in her step. As always, she had done her job beautifully...! (end)
Hello , I already sent a first draft of this a while ago ... Here's a better version with a few edits ... BTW, I know this probably too looooong for publication, but that's just how it came out ... And truly , it's how it happened, any way, less than three weeks ago ... Cheers,
"Let's talk about this New Year's day feast at the VG, in Halifax.
On December 27, I had surgery for bladder cancer. A radical cystectomy, they call it. My able surgeon removed bladder, prostate and nodes, and, well, …. let's not go there as it might cut your appetite as much as hospital food would... The operation was harder than planned, 7.5 hours on the table, with ,at times, pretty “timid” vital signs. I apparently danced on the edge, if you see what I mean... (Still, they did a fine job, and I'm now mending very quickly)
On December 28, I still could not even drink a sip of water. I realized that getting back on my feet would take a while... Since they also removed a length of intestine for the reconstructive part (Oups, sorry, I guess I did have to bring it up...) it took over a day for my intestines to "wake-up". So, throughout December 28, I'd let small ice cubes melt in my mouth. (The best feeling ever!). On December 29, they gave me liquid to drink. On December 30, they moved up the scale quickly, with semi-solid food.... Can't really say what it was ... I can only describe the colors: earth tones, white and some yellow for main courses, pastel colors for dessert. I was just repeating the mantra: "In certain circumstances, chemicals can be my friend...”
On December 31, I could feel we were on the verge of a special day; it was in the air ... and on my plate, in the shape of 2 chicken sandwiches. Well, not the chicken that runs around with its head cut off, no, it was the kind that is born and dies in a can... with very few stories to tell. The look of one such sandwich, you ask ? : A number of glistening darkish brown turdish pieces of solid, drowning in half a small jar of "fouet miraculeux" . The whole mess was trapped, as the “chicken” had been all its life in a can, between two thin pieces of dry white cardboard, that I quickly checked for any sign of greenness... I carefully chose the exact location where I would sink my teeth, over-analyzing what might be the best part of THIS animal.
Then, came New Year's day and all the excitement that comes with it everywhere; even, apparently more and more, in China; certainly the best proof of "rapprochement" with the Asian Tiger, as they celebrate the first day of a calendar that never was theirs ... But today, whether ready or not , I'm moved up to full celebratory solids ! Hallelujah !!! Hallelujah !!! (Sorry, I'm now confused with the previous week's gastronomical crescendo.) And it was brought, ritually, as a pagan offering: a large plate covered with a complete plastic bell cover (to me, it might as well have been made of silver ..) I hallucinated ! I could hear Leonard Cohen singing : "Ring the bells that still can ring.... Forget your perfect offering .....There is a crack, a crack in everything... That's how the light gets in ... And I felt such a bond with Leonard, a shared epiphany, a moment of grace, as I could almost see light rays breaking through the lined hardened polymer dome. Maybe he had written the song on a hospital bed, following a near death experience...? That would go well with the Leonard myth, no ? I let some time go by, collecting my emotions. For at least 10 minutes, I breathed deeply, giving thanks for what was about to happen. In my weak emotional state, I did get all weepy... And finally, I reached out and lifted the bell. Along with the bell, the veils were lifted, revealing THE typical New Year's feast : Piles of sliced turkey breast soaking up copious amounts of brown gravy, a mound of pure-white mashed potatoes, forest green small pieces of green beans, and dominating the whole thing, a peak of bright red, jello-like shiny cranberry sauce. This last item gave credibility to the whole plate, because, as we all know, Jello IS our friend , So, I dug in : I test-bit each item : the mashed were made from reconstituted dry potato flakes, the green beans were so overcooked, they seemed to evaporate somewhere between the plate and my mouth and, as for the turkey, well, I slowly carved a small piece, brought it to my mouth and slowly, ever slowly, began to chew.My first impression was that the taste forgot to follow the piece on the fork ride to my mouth. I tasted nothing. And I kept chewing some more ... surely my chewing will eventually extract the yummy turkey juices... Nope ... Nada .. There was action on the texture front: expanding piece of drywall board that I wanted to spit out. I should have ... I should have known there was a risky similarity between chalky and choky. As I swallowed the unholly lump, I choked . It was stuck somewhere in my airways. Panicked, I rang for the nurse but, God bless their little running shoes, they're so busy, they can't always come running like in the movies. I was on my own ... What an ironic way to go, I thought with panic, still unable to breathe. I visualized my airways expanding, willing it to, promising every known gods that if he/she/it interceded and allowed the object to drop, I would live as a better moral person. and ..... it worked. The thing accepted to follow the law of gravity and slowly, slowly began to move down my pipes. I didn't want to cough too much , as it made my incision hurt and I was afraid to pop the sutures. Eventually I settled in the soft, quiet place that follows the huge adrenaline rush caused by our survival instinct, the fight or flight response. I could not fly anywhere, but I sure fought for my life. Drenched in sweat, but at peace with the world, I had the insight that it had been a stroke of genius to try to address all the Gods, not just the one who's generally on duty in Canada. After all, this was New Year's day here and our main God was probably on Holiday .... It must have been an oriental God …Finally the nurse arrived, looking concerned. "Are you OK. ??" she said. "I'm fine", I said. Then, "Are you done with your meal ?"
"Yes, I am." I responded. You see, I had put the dome back on the whole mess.... As she picked up the tray, she said : "You're mending amazingly well. I mean, your face is red, which means the blood is flowing smoothly. I nodded , with a smile, contented. She possibly also noticed on my cheeks the tracks from the tears that flowed as I was choking. She patted me on the arm and softly said with kindness : "No, I mean it, I'm sure you have a strong constitution and you'll get over this. Happy New Year, dear !" Well, that was it ... I started sobbing, as we always do when we're super weak and nice strangers give us heartfelt compassion. Between the sobs, I managed to blurt : " I know, I know, I'm actually quite happy and very optimistic ..!" and, as I settled down and she turned to leave :" Happy New Year's Nurse Flo " (That was the nickname I had given this incredibly competent and hilarious nurse who always wore a traditional-style nurse headdress, in reference to Florence Nightingale.
It was sweet to watch her leave the room, carrying the tray of barely touched turkey dinner, a spring in her step. As always, she had done her job beautifully...! " (end)
It wasn't the worse meal in terms of taste just odd.
One bran muffin, i slice cheddar cheese, salt and pepper and a black coffee.
I had a few laughs reading about your New Year's day feast.
So did my friends, now that I'm out of hospital ... BTW, as I'm resting at home they've been bringing me the most amazing meals . It's delighful that everyday, different friends dropby to share great food, support, humor and friendship. I truly feel blessed by them ...